Tuesday, October 31, 2006

What would winter be without these hyper little snowbirds? They seem to take the place of Chipping Sparrows. There a few chippies lingering, but not for very long. We have a few dozen Dark-eyed Juncos in our backyard right now, scolding one another with their laser tew-tew-tew calls.

I like sprinkling safflower and sunflower chips around the base of our maple tree - the juncos seem to prefer foraging rather than taking food from a feeder. Even if I place a few small circles of birdseed on the patio, they still check every nook and cranny around the deck and alongside our house.

Some juncos migrate and some don't, but I learned an interesting fact about non-migratory juncos today. Males of sedentary subspecies may be confined to the same few square miles throughout life, but experimentally displaced male J. h. carolinensis retain the ability to return home over 300 miles to breeding sites, returning 1 to 3 weeks after displacement.

Monday, October 30, 2006

This past spring on April 20th, Charles Naeseth found a singing Tennessee Warbler along the stream corridor of Pheasant Branch Conservancy. Walking the path toward him that morning, I heard the song and saw Charles grinning as he pointed up at the bird. We figured it was pretty early in the spring for a Tennessee. We watched and listened to the warbler for a few minutes; eventually Charles decided to keep walking down the path to look at other birds. I stayed behind to try to get a picture of the warbler, but was unable to. Still, there was no doubt in our minds regarding the identification of the bird.

I reported the sighting to the Wisconsin Birding Network and Bob Domagalski replied that April 20th would tie for record-early (Wisconsin) going back to 1980. Supposing Charles would submit his sighting, I put together supporting documentation of the observation into WSO's on-line form. For whatever personal reasons he might have, I later found out Charles wasn't interested in submitting his discovery to WSO (he's sort of a quirky character, but a great birder with 40 years experience), leaving my brief report to stand on its own.

Recently I received a letter in the mail from Jim Frank, WSO Records Committee chair, indicating that they were unable to accept the Tennessee Warbler record citing Orange-crowned Warbler has a similar sounding "trill song" and was more expected for that time of year. Jim also noted, as I stated in my report, that my view of the bird wasn't unobstructed or in great light and subsequently failed to note pertinent field marks. Jim concluded, with appropriate skepticism, that I might have gotten it wrong.

My first reaction was "no way!" and that the song totally gave the bird's identification away. This quickly changed to apathy, but the more I thought about it I strongly felt the record should be included in the context of other unusual sightings at Pheasant Branch last April. There was a record-early Golden-winged Warbler (April 8th), a Hooded Warbler (April 15th) and this record-early Tennessee ought to be included in WSO's "citizen science" dataset. Is it an important observation even if an anomaly, else why keep track of these things?

I emailed Jim and was adamant about my field identification by song. He thoughtfully explained that written song descriptions are very problematic for records committees due to the uncertainty of how they audibly translate - which syllables to accent, inflect, etc. I admitted that I hadn't really thought about it in that context before.

I think a Tennessee Warbler has a very distinct song, but how should I write it out? Making the identification is relatively effortless upon hearing one – I either think to myself or say aloud, "Tennessee Warbler over there!" Certainly, I'm not infallible when it comes to bird song identification, but there are those species you just know the moment you hear them – it's a diagnostic Tennessee Warbler song, Blue-winged Warbler or Louisiana Waterthrush. Such songs stand out as being unique in a way that rules everything else out in an instant. In my documentation, I described the Tennessee's song as "see-bit, see-bit, see-bit, see-bit, seet seet seet seet seet" with slight acceleration. Jim's point is well taken especially when comparing various field guides.

Almost makes you wonder if they're even talking about the same species! I can't say for certain that if someone independently sent me above text asking for song ID that I would have absolutely responded with Tennessee Warbler in every case. To further complicate the issue, Dunn/Garrett cite geographical variances in song in Peterson's Warblers field guide. Identifying a bird by song might be enough for a year list or pointing a species out during a field trip (because everyone can hear it), but trying to express it in words is problematic, especially when submitting it on a record.

Tennessee Warbler

Orange-crowned Warbler

Believe it or not, I eventually won a written appeal to WSO's records committee and got the record accepted by putting together a short presentation with sonagram of Tennessee and Orange-crowned and explaining structural differences of their songs and how unlikely it was that I could have been mistaken - detail I should have included in the original submission. Naturally, the observation was now a half a year ago and I've listened to many Tennessee Warblers since then. How can they be certain I've described a bird (by song) that was actually there?

I'm guessing they wanted to make sure I knew the difference between the two songs. In other words, I think they sincerely believed Charles and I heard a Tennessee Warbler last April, but believing isn't enough - how can you prove it? Records committees look at hundreds of reports in a given year, but the question is should citizen scientists be held to such standards and scrutiny? If veritable sightings are being dismissed for lack of adequate documentation, should we still keep them on a gradation list of some sort, so that shifts and population trends might have an element of fuzziness, but nevertheless indicate something?

Though I was extremely confident about the Tennessee Warbler song, from a scientific standard of peer-review, I provided no evidence other than my say-so. Without a corroborating report or additional evidence, one person's written interpretation of song is just as effective (or ineffective) as stating, "I heard it sing and it was a Tennessee Warbler."

Wednesday, October 25, 2006

To my knowledge it had only ever been a Chipping Sparrow and a Hermit Thrush. Both were stunned, so I kept them inside until they fully recovered. There could have been others over the years, perhaps discovered by a roaming cat and too stunned to flee - leaving no evidence except maybe a few feathers. But when I found a dead American Robin beneath our front picture windows after hearing a loud thud, and held its warm, lifeless body in my hands…I was so angry with myself. I decided it was time to stop thinking about our view from inside our house.

I asked Cindy Mead of Woodsong Blog what she uses and highly recommended birdscreen. Since installing it, we haven't had a single "thud", stunned bird or bird killed from a window collision. In fact, I once observed a House Finch go full throttle into one of the side windows - the birdscreen completely absorbed the impact and the finch flew away unharmed, just as the makers of the product testify on their website:

"I have had these screens in place on our home since November 2001 and have not had a single fatality (or injured bird) that we know of. We have seen birds fly into the screens, bounce off, and resume whatever activity they were doing before with no apparent harm."

Looking at these photographs of our windows, you can see why collisions are so common. Coming in from the front yard (top photograph), it looks like a bird could perch nicely into that beautiful tree in the reflection. But birds don't understand what windows are - all they see is the tree and blue sky and head straight for it.

Today on Wisconsin Public Radio:

"The greatest single risk for birds isn't feral cats... it's window strikes. After eleven, Larry Meiller talks about the issue of birds hitting windows with Noel Cutright of the Wisconsin Society for Ornithology."

Estimates are between 100 million and 1 billion birds collide into windows (houses and buildings) each year. This is a huge problem and there's something we all can do about it. I put feeders and birdbaths out to attract birds, now it's my responsibility to keep them clean and to make sure flyways through my yard are safe.

Tuesday, October 24, 2006

"While walking the usual 500 yard path at Milwaukee's North Point-Lake Park lakeshore in mid- October, during the peak of Kinglet migration, I found 2 Golden-crowneds caught in burdock seed heads, still alive. One was easy to extricate, the other was so badly fastened that I had to very carefully, slowly manipulate and gently pull the heads off of the bird's face. Had I not had experience with handling and removing Kinglets from mist nets I might have killed this bird. The 3rd bird I found is pictured below. In retrospect, I realize that a small group of hikers with clippers could have cut all of the Burdock along this entire 500 yard path in about 15 minutes. This plant must kill thousands of Kinglets and other small birds each year. Please feel free to use this digital and page in any way to increase awareness of this weed. A larger sized, raw image is available on request, more suitable for publication. "

Monday, October 23, 2006

One day this past spring I was driving past the prairie restoration area of Pheasant Branch Conservancy and noticed someone using a chainsaw to cut down small trees. Out of curiosity, I pulled over to ask about it. It turned out I knew the volunteer worker and he was cutting down certain trees to eliminate peripheral perches hawks and falcons might utilize to target nesting grassland songbird species. Whether or not you agree with this strategy for protecting grassland songbirds, it's a particularly specific attention to detail.

The Friends of Pheasant Branch, Dane County Parks and a host of other advocacy/nature groups are very serious about restoring the prairie and justifiably take great pride in their accomplishments. Countless hours and resources have been poured into the project and the effect of their efforts hasn't gone unnoticed by me. The prairie and oak savanna have attracted Dickcissels, Bobolinks, Eastern Meadowlarks, Eastern Kingbirds, Clay-colored Sparrows and more. My observations during the summer months revealed over 40 bird species on territory. Over the past few years this area has become one of favorite birding haunts and also where I conduct the majority of my sparrow photography.

While birding at the prairie one day this past summer, I bumped into Wayne Pauly, Dane County Naturalist, who has been instrumental in the Pheasant Branch prairie restoration. Wayne isn't a birder and I lack detailed knowledge regarding prairie plant species and habitats (I'm working on it), but it was interesting for him to learn which bird species I've seen where – a veritable meter for his progress. We spoke for nearly an hour and eventually I brought up my curiosity about the tree cutting in the context on his feelings toward dog owners allowing pets to run off leash on the prairie. Why bother with removing a few trees when nothing is being done about off leash dogs?

As you enter the trail, there is an informational sign at the parking lot, with bold, bright, large letters stating pets must be leashed at all times. But what is clearly a directive is often taken only as a suggestion and subsequently ignored by many dog owners. The rapid growth of housing developments surrounding the conservancy means more people, and more pet owners using it. Hey, that's just fine...I want them to to use and enjoy it. I want them to be advocates for protecting the land against future development, but how about following a few easy rules? Or just one? Apparently, the temptation is too great for some dog owners.

I used to confront them – those who allowed their pets to run off leash on the prairie. I would tell them about the restoration efforts and the type of birds nesting on the prairie. When met with stark apathy, I would cite the leash ordinance and also the availability of dedicated dog exercise area less than a mile away. Invariably, there's always one reason or another why they are exempt from the rules. "My dog doesn't kill things." "I can control my dog." "I know about the ordinance, but I just can't deny my dog the enjoyment of running free." "I didn't see the sign." "The dog park is too far away to walk to."

Comments like these represent some of the nicer things people have said. Several of Middleton's "Good Neighbors" have been downright hostile toward me – colorful expletives and all. But never once has anyone replied with, "Thank you for pointing that out to me. I'm grateful for this information and will gladly walk my dog through the conservancy on a leash from now on." (I can dream, can't I?) Nobody likes being told they're doing something wrong, especially from someone who isn't in an official capacity to enforce the ordinance being cited to them. They take it so personally when I do not mean it personally – my interest is strictly about protecting birds of the conservancy.

Just recently, Dane County Parks put up new signs along the prairie's trails that read, "Dogs must be on leash dog permit required - failure to have a Dane County Dog Permit and running a Dog off leash may result in a fine of $154.25." My understanding is that a number of tickets have already been issued since the signs went up sometime late summer. There are still dog owners ignoring the new signs, but it has drastically decreased. Back to my conversation with Wayne, we agreed a greater threat exists for grassland birds – feral cats, and cat owners who allow their pets to roam freely on conservancy lands.

This is Bucky - one of the friendliest cats I've come across in Pheasant Branch. When I first met Bucky, I wasn't aware of his name because he had no tags, but more on that in a moment. Sometimes Bucky would follow me along the stream corridor trail and keep me company while I watched warblers, vireos and flycatchers during fall migration. Though I never actually saw Bucky with a dead bird, kill a bird or any other critter, I have observed him stalking House Wrens and Song Sparrows. When birds would vocalize to the point of agitation, I would intervene and shoo Bucky way from the habitat edge.

At first I didn't know if Bucky was a lost cat, abandoned cat or what. Given his friendly disposition toward myself and other birders, I suspected he had to be someone's pet. After seeing him in the conservancy for several days, Bucky ended up taking a trip to the Dane County Humane Society. A few days later his owner posted "lost cat" signs near the trail entrances. Bucky's time away from the conservancy was actually quite an adventure, but in the interest of brevity and protecting the innocent, I won't go into further detail.

Bucky's owner was eventually notified where he could pick him up, advised of leash ordinances, but only a few days later Bucky was back roaming the conservancy trails...wearing a tagged collar with a phone number. Bucky isn't a bad kitty, but his owner exercises poor judgment. While Bucky is a very lovable cat, sadly I fear his fate will be that of other cats I see along the road. Bucky does not belong in the conservancy, he belongs inside a house where he isn't a threat to protected migratory songbirds and won't end up as roadkill or a meal for Great Horned Owls.

What bothers me most about this article isn't necessarily the story itself, but the snippy blurb appearing on the window title at the top. Do you see it? "Dog lovers win temporary reprieve from nimby group." Do they mean the Golden Gate Audubon Society? Center for Biological Diversity? I despise the use of "nimby" as a legitimate argument, as if the pejorative represents a reasoned response. "Oh, it's one of those noisy nimby groups. A nimby group? Well, clearly they're wrong!" It's just like the minority of pet owners at Pheasant Branch - they upset easily when there's a perceived imposition on letting them do whatever they want in parks/conservancy lands. It's precisely my contention that such lands are not my backyard, they're not anyone's backyard, but the homes of aforementioned birds and other native wildlife. Hey, I love cats and dogs, too, they just don't belong off leash where they have the potential to harm birds and other sensitive wildlife.

I admire The Nature Conservancy's stance on protecting sensitive natural areas. For example, at Spring Green Prairie, it's clearly posted as you enter the trail that if people do not follow the rules, public access to the prairie will be closed. Therein lies the difference between a true wildlife conservancy and a public park that pretends to be one. The compromise is so simple – leashes. Need to run your dog? Go to the dog park – it's just another mile down the road. It's great that the public supports a place like Pheasant Branch Conservancy, and maybe Dane County Parks needs to educate a little better on why it's important to protect the prairie and its wild inhabitants. Both sides need to respect the other, but the prairie birds deserve to carry out their business without having to worry about a cold, wet nose sniffing through the grass.